


Heavenly Bodies

by XaviaAndromedovna



Series: Daily Fic Drabbles Table A [17]
Category: Crying Game (1992)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaviaAndromedovna/pseuds/XaviaAndromedovna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dil likes to pretend their love is written in the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavenly Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Jupiter

During the six or so years Fergus was in prison, he and Dil came up with increasingly novel ways to spend their visiting hours.

“My horoscope?  You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Now now, dear—“

“Dil…”

“Sorry, hon.  But you shouldn’t condemn something you’ve never tried.  Take me for example.”

“My point exactly.  I’m _still_ trying to get rid of you.”

“And very convincingly, too,” Dil counters with a smirk.  Fergus rolls his eyes and huffs as he leans back in his chair.

“Very well then.  Let’s give it a go.”

“I knew you’d see it my way, love.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Never, my sweet!  Now, I’m not an expert, but from what I’ve read I think I can divine some insight into my troubled hero.”

“Why do you always have to do that?”

“A girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow, Jimmy.”

“My name’s Fergus.”

“I’ll pretend if you’ll pretend, love.”

“You’re a beautiful girl and I love you.  And I’ll never leave you.”

“See?  That wasn’t so hard, was it Jimmy?”  Dil pulls out a rather large book.  “Now then, let’s see what we have.”

“Where’d you get that?”

“The library, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Now, I’ll need your birthday…”

He gives it to her and she spends a few minutes in silence, a rare feat for her.  She flips through star charts and writes down figures and numbers and cross-references them with complicated tables.  Fergus stifles a laugh, because she’s taking this _very_ seriously, almost like she’s a scientist looking for the cure to cancer.  And yet, all she’s looking for is some correlation between his stubbornness and the position of the moon that isn’t there.  He’ll never say this, of course, because he’s not _that_ mean.  Then again, he’d rather talk about that than about how beautiful she is when her brow furrows in concentration, when her hand glides across the book, when her lips move in tandem with words she reads and writes.

He coughs.

“Are you sure I need to watch this riveting process?”

She sighs, “just like a man, all action and battle.  No wonder women are so foreign to you.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“I read it somewhere; ‘Men are from Mars, and Women are from Venus’.”

“And where are you from, then, eh Dil?  Jupiter?”

“Well if I am from Jupiter, then you, Fergus, are from Uranus, because you’re a bloody asshole.”

“Aye, that I am.  So tell me.  What do the stars think of me?”

“They say you’re stubborn but loyal, trust easily— often too easily— were born into chaos but seek peace.  You are cynical and constantly in search of people who challenge your ability to love.  All in all, a good person.”

“Did the stars say that, or did you?”

“That’s the magic of interpreting the stars, my love.  You’ll never know.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Crying Game is not mine.


End file.
